Die Me a River Read online

  “Crap!” Skye waved at her friend as she flew up the front steps.

  Intellectually, she knew the twins were perfectly fine in their bouncy seats, but emotionally, she felt like a bad mother for leaving them alone for two seconds. Finding them safe and sound, Skye sank to the floor between them, put a hand on each chair, and soothed them.

  Once the twins dozed off, she took out her cell phone and sent Wally two texts. One contained a list of the faculty who had a grudge against Homestead Insurance and the other was the names of the two final nanny candidates along with their appointment times.

  Wally’s return message was full of sweet nothings and Skye was still smiling at it when there was a volley of loud knocks on the door. Expecting it to be the party rental company with the tent for Saturday, she hoisted herself off the floor and hurried to greet them.

  Flinging open the metal door, Skye was surprised to see Bunny standing on the other side. The redhead was dressed in skinny jeans and a tight gray T-shirt with little rhinestone hearts scattered across her substantial chest, which, for Bunny, was a conservative outfit.

  “You have to help me.” Bunny shoved Skye back, stepped across the threshold, and locked the door. “I don’t have much time.”

  As Bunny entered the RV, Skye got a whiff of stale sweat and cheap wine. Probably the scent of the redhead’s fear.

  “What’s wrong? Is someone after you?” Skye pulled the older woman farther inside and frantically tapped 911 into her cell.

  Bunny snatched Skye’s phone before she could hit the call button. “Don’t do that.” Bunny’s expression smoothing, she flapped her hand in front of her face. “I can’t remember the end of October ever being this hot before.”

  “Forget about the weather.” Skye grabbed her phone back. “Why are you here?”

  “I finally convinced Car that he could go with his usual crew to clear debris from the fields, but I have a feeling he’ll cut it short.” Bunny looked around the RV. “Wow! This is a nice setup.”

  “Thanks.” Skye twitched her shoulders. “It’s a little tight, but better than what a lot of folks are stuck with while they rebuild.”

  Bunny had what Wally called the “pretty lights” syndrome. She was distracted by shiny or expensive objects. Still, even Bunny would concentrate if she were really in danger, so Skye’s heart rate slowed.

  “And these little angels must be the twins.” Bunny bent from the waist, her legs absolutely straight, and touched each baby’s cheek. “They are perfectly darling. I see why Car is so smitten.”

  “Thank you.” Skye beamed, fighting the guilt sitting on her chest for letting things get so distant and awkward between them. Bunny was her friend and just because she and Simon were no longer a couple was no excuse. Resolving to get back to their previous relationship, she said, “Would you like to see the rest of the RV? It’s a little crowded, but there’s not much I can do about that. Even with the storage shed, there’s just not enough room for all the twins’ stuff.”

  “I’d love to.” Bunny linked arms with Skye and they started the grand tour.

  Once Bunny had seen everything, Skye got them both bottles of water and they settled on the couch.

  “Okay. Now, tell me why you needed to get rid of Carson and why you’re here,” Skye ordered, twisting off the cap of her Dasani.

  “I’m telling you this as the police psych consultant, not as Carson’s daughter-in-law.” The redhead’s hazel eyes sharpened and Skye could see the astute businesswoman that Bunny usually hid so well.

  “Agreed.” Skye waved her hand for Bunny to continue speaking.

  “I kind of left off one name on that list of my ex-boyfriends that I gave Wally.” Bunny fiddled with a loose rhinestone.

  “Why would you do that?” Skye asked, hoping her guess wasn’t correct.

  “Because I don’t want him or Carson to know about this guy.” Bunny clutched a throw pillow and lowered her voice. “They wouldn’t understand about him.”

  “Why is that?” Skye couldn’t quite figure out where Bunny was going.

  “Well, Aiden isn’t like them.” Bunny picked at the label on her bottle of water.

  “In what way?” Skye forced herself to be patient. Bunny was a lot like the teenagers she counseled. She made you work for her trust.

  “He’s…he’s more…” Bunny struggled for the right word. “Intense.”

  “You are aware that Carson is the CEO of a billion-dollar oil company?” Skye asked, arching a brow. “He has to be pretty intense for that.”

  “But in a more positive way.” Bunny scooted to the edge of the sofa cushion. “Aiden might donate money in order to get a tax break, but he’d never volunteer his time.”

  “Okay so, this Aiden isn’t as nice a guy as Carson,” Skye said, slowly formulating her next question. “What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s got his fingers in a lot of different enterprises.” Bunny refused to meet Skye’s gaze.

  “Such as what?” Skye asked, a chill creeping down her spine.

  “Aiden said it was best that I didn’t know the details.” Bunny shrugged. “He told me that he makes sure business owners are safe, lends money to people who can’t get a loan from the bank, and helps folks who need an intermediary between them and a public official.”

  Skye’s mouth fell open. “In other words, blackmail, loan sharking, and bribery.”

  “That’s a bit harsh.” Bunny tried to look outraged but failed.

  “What’s his last name?” Skye asked.

  “He doesn’t like me to tell people about him or that we were dating.”

  “If a relationship has to be kept a secret, you shouldn’t be in it.” Skye lasered the redhead with a look she usually reserved for her teenage clients.

  “Fine.” Bunny scowled. “It’s O’Twomey.”

  “Shi—” Skye glanced toward where babies slept. “Shoot! Are we talking about the Irish mob?”

  “Maybe.” Bunny tensed. “Probably.”

  “At least tell me you weren’t the one to break up with him.”

  “No.” Bunny wiped the perspiration from her brow. “I didn’t.”

  “So he broke up with you?”

  “Not exactly.” Bunny twisted the hem of her T-shirt.

  Skye didn’t like where this was heading.

  “So if you didn’t break up with him, and he didn’t break up with you, that means…”

  “Aiden was in Ireland for the last couple of months and I wanted to tell him in person that I wouldn’t be able to go out with him anymore,” Bunny explained. “But it dawned on me he was due back Sunday and I hadn’t heard from him.”

  “He returned the day before the bombing?” Skye wanted to be clear.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And he still thought he was your boyfriend,” Skye squeaked, tendrils of dread unfurling in her stomach.

  “I guess. But I never promised him that we were exclusive.”

  “Okay,” Skye said as calmly as she could. “But still, if he saw Carson going in and out of your apartment, he might be a tiny bit upset?”

  “Maybe not.” Bunny shrugged, but her attempt to look unconcerned didn’t work. “But you see why I can’t tell Carson or Wally? Carson will think I’m a cheater and Wally already doesn’t like me.”

  “You have a guy who at best is a criminal and at worst is in the Irish mob mad at you, and your bowling alley was bombed,” Skye said through clenched teeth. “So what I see is that you have no choice.”

  Chapter 13

  Since I Lost My Baby

  Wally entered the mayor’s office just in time to hear Dante grumble into the telephone, “I pushed one for English, you moron. Why am I talking to someone in Pakistan?” He paused, then snapped, “No, you are not Garth from Tennessee. Transfer me to someone in America immediately.”
/>   Snickering at Hizzoner’s frustration, Wally detected the unpleasant odor of cigar along with a layer of room freshener trying to cover up the evidence. There was no smoking allowed in public buildings in Illinois, but the mayor was a firm believer that rules were meant for everyone but him.

  As Wally settled into one of the pair of chairs facing the mayor’s enormous oak desk, he heard the unusual sound of water running and scanned the room for the source. Near the rear wall, a pedestal held a marble basin containing a pebble-filled metal disc. Water bubbled over a gazing ball in the center of the bronze saucer.

  Evidently, the mayor had recently acquired a Zen fountain. Had he hoped it would lower his sky-high blood pressure? Wally glanced at Dante’s flushed face. If so, it wasn’t working.

  Which was too bad, because in all likelihood, Wally’s visit would make Hizzoner’s hypertension worse. He was there for clarification about Scumble River’s policies regarding video gaming within the city limits and the possible connection of gambling to Monday night’s explosion.

  Faint music drifted from the receiver Dante was clutching, and Wally assumed the mayor was still on hold. Yawning, Wally eagerly reached for his phone when it vibrated and his usual irritation at being left to cool his heels vanished once he saw a picture of Skye from their honeymoon on the cell’s screen, indicating that she had sent him a text.

  Skye had no idea that he had this particular photo. But the sight of her luscious curves displayed in that two-piece bathing suit she’d bought for the trip sent a jolt southward every time he looked at it.

  He absolutely freaking loved getting texts from his wife throughout his day. He loved that she kept him up-to-date on the twins. And he loved that she always signed her messages with hearts and kisses.

  Despite his trepidation at hiring a nanny, spending yesterday afternoon with Skye had opened up his eyes and he’d finally really grasped the extent of her exhaustion. Seeing her barely able to stay awake had forced him to admit that they needed help.

  Wally glanced at Hizzoner, noting that Dante was glaring at the telephone. Clearly, the mayor wasn’t happy with whatever the caller had to say.

  Shrugging, Wally swiped his cell’s screen and saw a message with a list of faculty members unhappy with Paige Myler. He forwarded it to his work computer and opened the second text, which gave him a link to the résumés of the final two nanny contenders, as well as Skye’s notes on each of them. He clicked on the link and began studying the two women’s qualifications.

  Dante’s phone conversation broke into Wally’s concentration and he heard the mayor say in a voice boiling with indignation, “I can’t believe there’s nothing you can do. We are in desperate need of funds to continue our efforts to rebuild. Many people have lost everything.”

  Frowning, Wally focused on what the mayor was saying. While it was originally thought that Scumble River had suffered close to three million dollars in damages, after all was said and done, the cost had turned out to be closer to six million. Most people had no idea that there weren’t any state disaster recovery funds available. And in order for FEMA to contribute, the state needed to prove that it had over eighteen million in damages. Illinois as a whole had only fifteen million.

  “Judas Priest,” Dante said under his breath, then cleared his throat and barked, “Of course we have a long-term recovery committee.”

  Wally shook his head. The mayor was wasting his time. The state government’s finances were in no position to help them and the federal government couldn’t care less about a small town in rural Illinois.

  “Our volunteers have crawled under houses to repair furnaces and plumbing, they’ve manually torn down the wreckage of unsafe structures, and they’ve picked up debris despite the unrelenting heat!” Dante screeched like a rusty hinge. “What more do you want us to do to prove that we’re helping ourselves!” Banging the handset into the holder, he scowled at Wally. “The moron in charge of the Rescue Illinois fund refuses to give us a cent until we raise seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars to match their endowment.”

  “We have to be close to that.” Wally scratched head. “Dad has contributed a quarter million all by himself.”

  “Your father’s donations don’t count because they were in goods rather than cash.” Dante thrust out his chin. “If we’d known about that loophole right away, we could have had Carson give us the money, then bought the stuff from those funds ourselves.”

  “Well, that sucks.” Wally stared at Dante. He rarely saw this side of the mayor—a man trying to do right by his constituents.

  Glancing around the mayor’s lavish office, the toll of the past few months was obvious. Dante loved his plants and had always shamelessly babied them. But brown leaves drooped from his normally flourishing philodendron and his devil’s ivy had overgrown its pot and taken over the file cabinet.

  Just as Wally felt a twinge of pity for the mayor, Hizzoner snapped his fingers and said, “Any chance your old man would kick in another quarter mil, but in cash this time?”

  Wally crossed his arms. “That would be a lot to ask of one person.”

  “But for his only son’s and grandchildren’s home town?” Dante wheedled.

  Any sense of sympathy Wally had for Dante immediately evaporated. This was more like the mayor he was used to than the one that had been there a few minutes ago.

  “You can ask.” Wally threw Dante a warning look. “But leave me and my family out of it.”

  “Fine.” Dante narrowed his eyes. “So what did you want to see me about?”

  “Can you run me through the whole video gambling process?” Wally took out his pad and pen.

  “What do you want to know?” Dante asked, wariness oozing from every pore.

  “How is it decided who gets to have the machines and how many sites are allowed in the city limits?” Wally kept his voice neutral, but noted the mayor’s unease.

  “According to Illinois law, any place that pours liquor is allowed to have machines, but communities can pass their own ordinance further limiting the number of machines in the village.” Dante straightened a stack of files on his desk, then, not looking up, said, “Scumble River decided to only permit five such establishments.”

  “So if someone wanted to open, say, a video gambling café, one of the current places would have to give up their machines.” Wally stared until Dante met his gaze.

  “Or the city council would have to add an additional permit to expand their maximum.” Dante laced his fingers across his stomach, attempting to appear relaxed but failing. “Does this have anything to do with the bombing at Bunny Lanes?”

  “It’s one of the leads that I’m pursuing.” Wally tapped his pen on his thigh. “This morning when I was thinking about the case, I remembered meeting a man at the florist shop Monday afternoon. This guy said that he runs a chain of video gambling cafés and had a deal to open several in Stanley County, starting with the flagship in Scumble River. He was really ticked off that our city council wasn’t cooperating.”

  “And you think that this man blew up the bowling alley in order to open up a spot on the list?” Dante snickered, looking strangely relieved. “Seriously?”

  “I’d like to talk to him.” Wally kept his expression bland. The mayor loved to get a rise from people. “I’ll have to stop at the florist and see if they have his name from his credit card purchase.”

  “No need.” Dante puffed up his chest. “You must mean Yuri Iverson. He’s a good friend of mine and I assure you he has no need for explosives.”

  “Why is that?” Wally narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Iverson seemed more than a little desperate to get this business finished with and leave town.”

  “Yuri knows that we’ll take care of it as soon as the city council has time to meet.” Dante fingered the gold chain that stretched across his vest.

  “And what would it take for you all to find the
time?” Wally drawled.

  “If you’re suggesting that we’re waiting for a bribe…” Dante glowered.

  “Why would I think that?” Wally asked, watching the mayor’s face redden.

  “Because…” Dante squawked. “Because no matter how hard I try, you refuse to believe I have the best interests of the community at heart.”

  “That’s an interesting statement.” Wally felt his cell phone vibrate. “Thanks for your time and the information, Mayor.”

  “Right.” The mayor turned away, snatched up the receiver, and began to dial.

  “By the way, if you want to talk to my father, he’s staying at the motor court. But I wouldn’t mention the fact that you don’t seem to care that the bowling alley was bombed.” Wally walked toward the door. “Seeing as he’s dating the alley’s manager.”

  Dante glared but remained silent as Wally stepped over the threshold. Once he was back in his own office, he quickly checked his messages, afraid Skye had been trying to reach him.

  When he saw that the missed call was from Thea, he punched in his password and listened to the dispatcher’s voicemail. “Paige Myler’s ex-husband is here and is extremely anxious to speak to you.”

  Wally glanced at his watch. It was already 4:50. Shoot! He’d been trying to make it home by 5:00 most nights, but there was no way he was delegating this interview. Sighing, he headed downstairs.

  When Wally reached the station’s lobby, he found a man who appeared to be in his mid to late forties seated on the bench. He was dressed in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie and was busy tapping away on his phone.

  Spotting Wally, the guy shot to his feet and said, “Chief Boyd?”

  “Yes.” Wally held out his hand. “And you must be Phillip Myler.”

  “I am. I just wish I could have gotten here sooner.” The man shook Wally’s hand. “But I had no idea that Paige was dead until this afternoon when our executive vice president called a meeting and announced that she’d been killed. I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to drive down from Normalton, but I left right afterward.”